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The world was burning.
She didn’t know how, but it was.
She watched as it went up in flames. Memories. People. Everything.
She wished it would stop burning.
She didn’t like fire. It was too harsh. Too hot. Too mean.
It took too much.
So Sophie watched, helpless, as everything she knew went up in flames.
Then she woke up.
***
She was numb.
The burns on her legs didn’t hurt. The death of her parents didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt.
Nothing felt good, either.
She wished she felt something. She wished the numbing solution hadn’t killed the pain in her legs. She wished she had something to remind her that she was still alive. Y’know. Since her parents weren’t there to do it.
But, she supposed, that was a sign she was alive, wasn’t it? If she was dead her parents would be there.
But they weren’t.
***
A fake smile. A forced laugh. A meaningless hug. They were all too familiar to Sophie.
Why did everyone in her life leave her?
Why did everyone only love her for so long?
Why?
The funeral was one of the worst experiences she’d ever had.
Everyone was smiling sympathetically at the girl in a wheelchair with bandages around her legs. Everyone was shaking their heads in pity. Everyone was whispering things like “she’s been through so much already” and “poor, poor girl.”
She wished everyone would stop.
***
It was complicated, they said. It would take a while to get her into the foster system. She’d need to stay with her aunt for now.
Her aunt didn’t want her.
But Sophie couldn’t exactly blame her for that. She wouldn’t want her either.
No one did.
Not for forever, at least.
“Ich gehe jetzt zur Schule!” Sophie yelled, picking up her backpack and heading toward the door.
“Bis später Mausi! schönen tag noch!” her aunt called back.
That was the problem. Her aunt was sweet. She smiled and kissed her hair and soothed her through nightmares but even that hurt because she knew her aunt couldn’t afford to keep her around. She loved her aunt, but she wouldn’t be able to stay with her for forever.
***
“This is Miss Medda. She’ll be your foster mother.”
Sophie tilted her head, studying the woman in front of her. She had dark skin, black hair, and warm, twinkling brown eyes. Everything about her told Sophie to trust her.
Everything in Sophie screamed not to.
“Go on, little mouse,” her aunt encouraged, touching her shoulder with a reassuring smile.
“Ich will nicht, tante ,” Sophie whispered, leaning into her aunt's touch. Lena’s face softened, and she turned Sophie so she was facing her.
“Hör mir zu, Sophie. Ich kann mich nicht selbst um dich kümmern. Ich würde, wenn ich könnte, das weißt du, aber ich kann nicht. Medda kann. Du musst hier bleiben, damit ich weiß, dass du in Sicherheit bist. Bitte, Mausi. Für mich?” she said, tucking hair behind Sophie’s ear. Sophie bit her lip, glancing back at Miss Medda and around the house. She noticed, for the first time, that there were two boys laying across the couch in the living room. One was younger than her, and had a prosthetic right leg. The other one was clearly older than her, and she watched as he showed the younger one something on his phone, then laughed when he whispered something back. He seemed to feel Sophie staring at him, because he looked up and locked eyes with her. He smiled at her, almost like he knew what she was thinking. Then he gestured to the empty space on the couch next to him and winked, turning back to his phone and the boy next to him.
Sophie breathed in, then out, and nodded to her aunt.
***
Sophie curled into the couch, pressing herself as far into the side as she could. She knew Jack wasn’t going to hurt her. She knew he was a good person, but everyone in her life had left her, intentionally or otherwise, so why would he be any different?
The moment of relief he’d granted her when he offered her the seat a week ago was gone. Now she wished she’d never let her aunt walk away, even if it was selfish and cruel and awful. Even if Medda was the kindest person she’d met, and even if Crutchie was so sweet it made her wish she was actually his older sister. Even if Jack seemed to sense when it was all getting to be too much and always had something funny to say to get her out of her head. If she let anyone else get close, they’d leave her, and she couldn’t go through that again.
“Sophie?”
Sophie hummed, still glancing around the room. She didn’t want to look at Jack. She was scared that looking at him would get her to believe that he wouldn’t leave, and she couldn’t afford that.
“Okay, so I don’ really know you, and you don’ really know me, and I’ve got no idea what happened in your life before you showed up here. But I do know that while you’re here, and even after, you’ll be my little sister, and that means that, no matter what, I’ll be here for you. I don’ care what it is, I’ll always be willin’ to listen.”
She froze. Here she was, so scared that looking at him would lure her into some false sense of security and get her to believe that he wouldn’t hurt her, when it turned out all he needed to do was talk. He sounded sincere, like he wouldn’t leave her if he could help it, but how could she trust him? She didn’t know him. He didn’t know her. How could she let her guard down and let him and Medda and Crutchie get close?
Maybe she could.
Maybe she could let them in, let them try and help her, and maybe they wouldn’t leave her. Maybe Jack would always be willing to listen, like he’d said, and maybe Medda and Crutchie would too. Sure, everyone in her life had left her, but her parents and her aunt hadn’t meant to, so maybe her new foster family wouldn’t mean to either.
Slowly, she turned to Jack, forced herself to lock eyes with him, to let herself be vulnerable and open. Still, something in her screamed to stay distant, to not believe a word he said. It was overpowering, trying to take over her, and she felt like it was burning away her desire to trust him. That wasn’t good, fire wasn’t good, it took everything, destroyed it without a trace. Once something was lit, there was no saving it, and if she let anything in her catch fire, it would be gone forever. She didn’t want that. Fire had already taken so much, she couldn’t let it take her too. In an attempt to appease that part of her, to douse it in water and get it to burn out, she asked, “Really?”
Jack’s face softened, and he nudged her, just barely, and smiled at her.
“Welcome to the Larkin family, kid.”